


Other Vengeance chapter one: Immediate Survival

by WaywardInsecticon



Series: Other Vengeance [1]
Category: Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Faction Truce, Gen, Transformers as Humans, lava is dangerous even if you don't touch it, we handed out sexes by beast-mode in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 03:36:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15161702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaywardInsecticon/pseuds/WaywardInsecticon
Summary: The aliens, fed up with the Beast Warriors shooting up their planet, decide to kill them … but gently. Now the Transformers have been turned human. The Maximals need the Predacons to research a cure, but the Predacons need the Maximals to survive, so the factions call a truce.





	1. Chapter 1

Another asked, _Mercy?_

Another recited, _That which is not part of the One shall become Void._

It said, _We will make them part of the One._

It said, _We who create life should not destroy it._

Another said, _But the Experiment ..._

It interjected, _Will continue. Let the random factors live. They will expire soon, and cause no more damage. When they are dead, they will simply break down into raw material. The Experiment will not be harmed. To sterilise the entire Project just for this would be wasteful. Our work is not so delicate that sixty years will make a difference._

Another asked, _But what if they breed?_

It said, _They are too few for a sustainable colony. They could not outbreed with the native dominants. They are no threat. There is room for mercy._

Another stated, _They will be watched. There are ways in which our work is_ very _delicate. If any random factor tries to upset the pattern ..._

_Then,_ it said, _it will be destroyed._

 

**Other Vengeance  
Immediate Survival  
( part one )**  
 

Heat. Stench. Pain.

_Run._

Megatron struggled to his feet, holding the arm of his chair for support. The world was invisible fire, burning his optics and coiling inside him, pounding in his head and in his chest. "Predacons!" he shouted, and found the act to be agony. "Evacuate the base - _now!_ "

No one answered. Megatron quickly scanned the room, angry to find most of his sensors missing and his vision burning and blurred. There was a tangle of red by one computer station - Terrorsaur.

The Predacon commander stepped cautiously onto a hoverpad, unwilling to trust a jump, and went down to his air warrior. He grabbed Terrorsaur by his upper arms, dimly realised that the pteranodon's wings should have made the action impossible, and couldn't bring himself to care. What worried him more was that Terrorsaur seemed taller and heavier than he should have been. "Terrorsaur! Awaken!"

Terrorsaur's voice scraped worse than usual. "... Megatron?"

"Who else, idiot?" Still holding up the air warrior by one arm, he turned to see where the others were and found Scorponok and Waspinator unconscious on the lower level of the command deck. "Collect up Waspinator. I'll get Scorponok," he ordered.

Sight was hampered by the burning in his optics, blurred as if seeing through fluid, and then he realised he was seeing through fluid ... _No time. Get Scorponok. Run._ Like Terrorsaur, Scorponok was too big and too heavy, but Megatron managed to wrestle the limp form onto his hoverpad and tear out of the control room.

His sense of urgency and the pounding in his head faded somewhat in the hall, enough that Megatron took a glance back to see if Terrorsaur was following. The air warrior was, and the green and yellow figure on the hoverpad by his feet meant that he'd managed to grab Waspinator. Beyond them, the door to the control room had closed automatically.

Megatron angrily tried to blink then wipe the fluid from his optics in an attempt to clear his vision. It worked, briefly, but the pain increased and with it the fluid. Everything was wrong, seriously wrong, and he didn't have time to think because they were under attack ...

_But that's not right either, is it?_ "Computer, _are_ we under attack?"

_"Negative."_

"Stop," Megatron ordered, bringing his own hoverpad to a halt.

Terrorsaur obeyed, tried to glare, then dragged his hand across his optics before succeeding. "What 'stop'? We've got to get out of here!"

"Think! We're not under attack. The heat itself was the threat - I believe we were being affected by the proximity of the lava," said Megatron. "Outside is a volcanic plain. Evacuation isn't feasible." He switched his attention back to the base. "Computer, did the energy wave take out our climate control system?"

_"Negative."_

"Then why is it so hot in here?"

There was a pause. _"Temperature inside the Predacon base is normal."_

His internal environmental compensators were obviously malfunctioning. "Lower the temperature and scrub out the gases from the lava as much as possible without overloading the system. And increase the lights by fifty percent." Not only was his vision blurred by fluid, not only was he missing the datascreen that generally superimposed over his sight, but his vision couldn't even pierce the usual gloom of the base. The brighter lights hurt his optics, but the choice seemed to be a bit more pain or the risk of tripping in the dark.

He tried to key in an internal diagnostic, but that system wasn't working either. He couldn't properly assess his damages, only feel them. Most of it was pounding - a pounding in his head and a pounding in his chest, though the latter felt more like an overworked pump than serious damage. It was one of the two systems he could feel within himself - the other was a ventilator, and that felt like it was full of smoke. The rest of him felt like it was a bag full of semi-solid rubber. It was a distinctly unpleasant feeling.

And the heat. Heat shouldn't be like this. Heat shouldn't cling. Heat shouldn't _choke_. Even away from the lava, even with the base's environmental compensators working as hard as possible, it was still too hot.

With the enhanced lighting, this was the first time Megatron had a chance to really get a look at the situation. Or, more specifically, at Terrorsaur, who had lost his wings, metal, and at least thirty centimetres off his height. He only seemed taller because Megatron was shorter as well. The burns on the air warrior's face and the clear fluid that dripped from his optics did nothing to help his appearance. "We've ... been reformatted?"

"Oh, _now_ you notice," rasped Terrorsaur. No longer fuelled by panic, the air warrior seemed on the verge of collapse. "What now?"

A long soak in a CR tank sounded good, but there were too many questions that Megatron wanted immediate answers for. "To the science lab, I think, yes. The aliens' attack has changed us, and I want to know our limitations."

The room would be crowded with the hoverpads, so they parked them in the hall outside. Terrorsaur touched his fingers to his forehead, then stared when they came back damp. "Either the humidity has jumped or I'm leaking."

"You don't appear to be damaged badly enough for that," said Megatron, hoping it was true since they all seemed to have the same problem. He couldn't identify the liquid, but he also knew that his chemoreceptors were malfunctioning. The whole base stank of lava, for one. He'd known that lava had a strong smell, he lived with it every day, but it had never registered as foul before.

Terrorsaur helped Megatron get Waspinator and Scorponok onto two of the work tables, then climbed up on the third himself and collapsed.

"Terrorsaur?"

"I'm still here, I only wish I was going into stasis," groaned the air warrior, lying on his front with his head pillowed on one arm. "This isn't the _worst_ pain ever, but it's a _new_ pain. It's like all my gyros are off but one in my midsection and it's spinning backwards and it _hurts_. How are you even standing up?"

Sheer force of will, but let Terrorsaur think him strong. Megatron activated the scanners above Scorponok and Waspinator. A full scan would take several minutes.

He inspected his second-in-command's face with his fingers, and was displeased to realise his tactile sensitivity had been damped. Aside from the unconsciousness and some burns on his face and hands, Scorponok seemed undamaged. The burns on his hands were a bit strange - the other three Predacons didn't have them. But then, Scorponok's hands seemed to be made of the same material as his face.

Megatron lifted one of Scorponok's hands and pried open his fist. The technician's palms and the undersides of his fingers were clean. The burns ran partway down his forearms, the material draped around them too loose to protect him from the heated air.

Megatron reached up to touch his own cheek, and found the tactile sensors in his fingers basically useless. The ones in his face worked fine, though, and screamed pain. They all had the same facial burns, it seemed.

He returned his attention to Scorponok. Scorponok's body was far too soft, but then all the Predacons were used to metal scales and hard synthleather and pseudochitin. Yielding flesh might be perfectly normal on a ... mammal, Megatron decided. Scorponok had fur, even if it was just on the top of his head and above his optics.

"This seems to be a beast-mode," said Megatron eventually. "A rather pointless one. Or our beast-modes and robot-modes were switched around so that we turn into robotic-looking animals."

Terrorsaur pushed himself up on his hands then swung his feet over the side of the table. He held out his arms and frowned as he inspected them. "We all ended up with the same form, then - we look alike as the Maximal cats. I'm not sure how all our bits fold up into these forms. Let's see. Terrorsaur - _beast-mode!_ "

Nothing happened. The frown became a scowl. "So this _is_ the beast-mode. Worthless. Terrorsaur - _terrorise!_ "

Nothing happened. "Perhaps you're doing it wrong," said Megatron.

The air warrior lunged off the table to stab a finger at Megatron, but lost his balance and caught himself on the table between them, the one Scorponok was lying on. "It's _transformation_. There's no 'doing it wrong'. I can feel the trigger in my head, it just doesn't connect to anything. Like when you lose a limb, like ... like my _wings_."

Terrorsaur stepped back, then tried to step into the air. After a few attempts, he sat on his table again and levelled a furious glare at Megatron. "You wanted limitations? I can't fly, either." His expression turned to one of horror. "Oh, Primus. If I hadn't felt so weak back in the control room, I'd have tried to fly, and then ... then ..."

Megatron cut the air warrior off before he could work himself into a panic. "Perhaps we've been infected with a transformation lock virus. That will be easy enough to deal with. Goodness knows we're created enough ways to do such things to the Maximals."

"How can you be so calm about this?" Terrorsaur demanded.

"These are new bodies. Nothing more, nothing less, and nothing to panic about."

"We can't transform, we can't fly, and we've been significantly weakened!" Terrorsaur yelled. "The aliens probably turned us into these soft _things_ so they can come and pick us off more easily!" Shouting turned out to be too much for him and he sagged back against his table as a coughing fit overtook him.

If it wasn't lava fumes making his head hurt, it was Terrorsaur. "Then we should remain calm so that we might fight back when they come!"

The voice of the computer interrupted the argument. _"Scanning complete."_

Megatron checked the screen. There were only trace amounts of metal in their bodies, and the only synthetics were their outermost layers. "By the Pit ..."

"Megatron?"

"We seem to be almost entirely organic. This is _flesh_."

"What? That doesn't make any sense."

The Predacon commander sighed and tore his incredulous gaze from the readouts to frown at his air warrior. "After all we've seen of the aliens' work, I should think that the complete transmutation of matter is within their power."

"So how come I can still feel my transformation triggers and stuff?" Terrorsaur demanded. "When I went from gliderjet to pteranodon, I lost the wings on my back, but I also lost the feeling of having wings on my back. Now I still feel like I've got wings on my arms. And don't tell me I'm crazy, because I've been watching you and you've been favouring your left hand."

"I have ... Hm." Megatron inspected his right hand - the one that so recently been a delivery system for reptilian teeth in crushing jaws. It had been almost a year since they'd taken on beast-modes, not nearly long enough to become so used to their forms to act as though they still wore them. They'd only worn these flesh-forms for fifteen minutes, but a reformat so soon after the last shouldn't carry any residuals. If anything, he ought to feel like his pre-beast body, and that had two hands. "This is actually reassuring," said Megatron. "Our programming wasn't updated for these new forms. The aliens could only alter our bodies, not our minds."

He turned around to check on Waspinator, to see if he could learn something from the scout that he couldn't from Scorponok, and frowned. "He's not breathing."

Terrorsaur came over and leaned over Waspinator. "That's not right. I don't know much about organic life, but he _should_ be breathing."

"Computer, scan Waspinator for life signs."

_"Predacon unit Waspinator is not in the base."_

Of course. Being organic meant no energy signature. The computer recognised their voices but not their bodies, and being an insentient computer, didn't see anything odd about that. "Scan the being on this table for life signs, using the fauna of this planet as a reference point."

There was a significant pause. _"Contradictory data."_

"List it."

_"Respiration - none. Heartbeat - none. Electroencephalic activity - none. Cellular processes - normal but increasing speed."_

"No." It wasn't a screamed denial, merely a flat rejection. Terrorsaur shook his head. "Waspinator's not any more damaged than we are. He's been through worse. He'll be fine. Just drop him in the tank."

"Oh, yes, and a CR tank would know how to repair an organic being. It would take him apart if it registered his presence at all. Do you ever think or do you just make noise?" Megatron glanced towards the door. "I have some things to take care of. Remain here."

Terrorsaur arched an eyebrow at him. "Where else is there to go?"

He took one of the hoverpads because it was faster and hurt less than walking, and went to his quarters. It didn't have quite the full capabilities of the command deck, but Megatron had controls and overrides for most of the base's systems in his room. He keyed in his codes and took stock. Power levels were good - he'd made sure the base was running at full efficiency in preparation for the alien attack. Repairs would need to be made, though. The energy of the wave had wreaked havoc with most of the base's electrical systems.

"Computer, deactivate the internal security system." It wasn't programmed to attack organics, but Megatron didn't want to continue risking the possibility that it might decide to do so. "Has anyone attempted communication with the base since the energy wave struck?"

_"Negative."_

"Reroute the communications system so that signals going to the control room go to the lab instead." If Inferno, Tarantulas, or Blackarachnia tried to get in contact with them, he wanted to know.

The important tasks out of the way, Megatron let himself fall into a chair. He agreed with Terrorsaur's assessment - he'd known more pain, but not pain like this, made worse by altered senses and the lack of internal diagnostics.

Megatron brushed dampness from his forehead again. It seemed to only leak from his face and neck - the rest of his body appeared dry. It _felt_ damp, though, the outer layer clinging and moving strangely, which was another worry. Internal leakage couldn't be repaired now.

So, this was organic. A condition deliberately caused by the aliens for no reason he could fathom. Destruction was always easier than alteration, so why did they waste the effort and energy? Of course, these were the beings who thought that a flying island covered in booby traps was a good idea.

He looked over at the Discs, suspended in their force field. The aliens had changed them, and perhaps the secrets of total matter transmutation were hidden on their Disc.

If only his head would stop aching so he could _think_ ...

Megatron returned to the lab, opened the door, and threw himself flat when laserfire lanced over his head. " _Terrorsaur, you idiot!_ "

There was a clatter and footsteps and the air warrior was helping him back to his feet. "I'm jumpy, okay? You might have been an alien."

Once back on his feet, Megatron shoved Terrorsaur away. "Do I _look_ like an alien?"

"Yes!"

"You know what I mean!" snapped Megatron. _Terrorsaur. I had to be stuck with stupid, stupid Terrorsaur and not anyone useful._ "I told you to stay here and I know that we don't keep guns in here!"

Terrorsaur went back to retrieve the offending weapon. It was his usual blaster, a bit too large for him now, but not so much that he couldn't wield it. "It came with me. I heard a noise, reached back automatically, and found it strapped to my back like usual."

_And between my blurred vision and his long hair, I never noticed. Blast._ "Why did you keep your gun when the rest of us didn't?"

"I don't know. Maybe because it's not a part of me. The rest of you had integrated weapons."

"Put it away, yes. We don't need any accidents." Before Terrorsaur could protest, Megatron held up a hand. "And before you ask, no, I don't think it would be any use against a species that can cause the complete transmutation of matter. Now, any change in the others?"

Terrorsaur reluctantly set his gun on the counter instead of returning it to its holster. "Scorponok groaned once. I tried to wake him up, but no go."

Waspinator coughed suddenly. Terrorsaur shot Megatron an I-told-you-so look and went over to tend to his partner. Not that he had any idea what that would entail now, so he just patted Waspinator's shoulder and made soothing noises. The scout struggled to turn onto his front, then coughed up a mixture of blood and a clear, yellowish fluid.

Terrorsaur snatched his hands back to avoid getting the fluids on them. "That doesn't look good."

Waspinator turned to track the voice, then saw his wingmate and shrieked. "Help! Waspinator has been kidnapped by squishies!"

Terrorsaur punched him in the arm. "It's _me_ , you idiot!"

A brief, unbelieving pause, then, "Terror-bot!"

"I'm not sure about the 'bot' part now ..."

"Is always something," Waspinator sighed, swinging his feet off the table. His voice had lost most of its buzz, and probably would have been a croon if it wasn't currently a rasping wheeze. "Waspinator feels like slag. If others done with Waspinator, Waspinator would like to go take CR nap."

"Stay put, Waspinator. Terrorsaur, fill him in."

Megatron left his air warriors to deal with themselves, then checked the scanner readings again. Yes, there - almost all of Waspinator's readings had been zero until thirty seconds ago when they all suddenly switched on with no obvious trigger event. Cellular processes had dropped back down to the computer's estimate of normal. Perhaps these forms were more resilient than they seemed. That was the first pleasant thought he'd had since he found himself in a new body.

Tired of standing, Megatron sat on Scorponok's table. He watched his two warriors, sitting on the first table, caught up in looking themselves over and poking at each other, trying to figure things out in a rather less than scientific way. The scout plucked at the green on his arm. "... Waspinator thought it was ... don't know. Fur or something."

Terrorsaur reached over and tugged a lock of Waspinator's hair. " _This_ is fur. This stuff is something else. Here ..."

He caught Waspinator's fingers and tugged. When they started to move, Waspinator yelled and tried to shove him away, but Terrorsaur was stronger than him. "Stop struggling! I'm not going to hurt you! Look, the stuff's modular and not even really attached to you." With that, Terrorsaur yanked off Waspinator's left hand.

The outer covering, anyway. The soft green material came off, revealing a slightly smaller light brown hand with short, sharp nails underneath. "Give Waspinator's hand back!" he demanded. "Bad enough when _Maximals_ take bits of poor Waspinator ..."

Terrorsaur ignored him, removing his own red and gray glove and slipping on his partner's green one. "See? Modular. It's a bit tight, though."

"So this is a type of light armour, not an actual part of our bodies," said Megatron. He pulled his glove off partway and twisted the fingers. There was no feeling in the substance. He took it off all the way and inspected his hand. It was dark brown with a faint sheen of damp. So, their true bodies were underneath the coverings. He pinched the skin on the back of his hand. It hurt a bit, even for a few seconds after he released his skin, but it didn't seem inclined to come off. One mystery solved - his tactile sense had been damped by the material. Without the gloves, it was about even with the level he was used to. The material was light and to the touch felt oddly soft, not like plastic sheeting, but not like anything else he was used to.

By now, Waspinator had completely forgotten his worry and was trying on Terrorsaur's gloves. "Waspinator can change colours! Whee!"

"Come on, give those back."

"So this is all removable down to the skin," said Megatron, pulling his glove back on. "I'm not sure what the point is."

"Clothing," said Terrorsaur. He eyed his gloves, but instead of putting them on, laid them aside. "It's just a decorative thing as far as I know."

Megatron raised an eyebrow. "How _do_ you know?"

Sorted out, drained by their brief excitement, the air warriors slumped together. Terrorsaur made a face. "You know where I'm from. My formative years were full of freaks who would do any silly thing to draw attention to themselves."

Waspinator suddenly looked up at Megatron. "So ... um ... what do Predacons do about Maximals?"

_Yes, what will we do?_ Megatron had been quietly turning the problem over in his mind ever since he realised their predicament. If only the Predacons had been changed, the Beast Wars were over. Possibly Inferno and the spiders had remained unchanged, but that still left the Predacons outnumbered. They still had control of their base, but entire sections were useless to them because of the lava and the rest was only just tolerable. They couldn't wait out a siege.

"Maybe what happened to us happened to them," said Terrorsaur.

_If so, things will be even ... maybe. Our injuries have weakened us badly. Still, that is, from the Predacon standpoint, the least devastating situation presented._ "We will need to learn if they share our fate without alerting them to our condition."

In accordance with the bad luck that had cursed the day, one of the consoles chimed. Terrorsaur went over to it. "We're getting a transmission. Audio only."

Faint hope stirred in Megatron's spark. "One of ours?"

Terrorsaur shook his head. "It's on the primary Maximal frequency."

"Blast."

 

* * *

 

_Wake up._

"Hm?"

_Wake up, you fool!_

Blackarachnia grudgingly let consciousness return. Whatever the aliens had been doing seemed to be over. The hall was quiet except for the underlying hum of machinery.

"I can't feel my legs," she grumbled. Her robot-mode legs were right where she had left them, but she couldn't feel the spider's-legs that should have been on her arms. The Maximals must have taken her apart to remove all of her weapons.

Waking up in the cargo section of the _Axalon_ was a surprise. She'd been heading back to the stasis hold when everything went black. Did the Maximals take her weapons then just leave her in the hallway? Were they that stupid? The bigger surprise came when she reached out for the wall to help herself to her feet. She misjudged the distance and came up short because her hand was no longer an articulated claw, but something rather more delicate with five fingers. Her spider's-legs had been reduced to harmless ribbons tied around her upper arms.

_Interesting. Total reformatting. I_ thought _things felt a bit strange, she thought, followed by, I didn't think that._

_I need to find Tarantulas ..._ thought Blackarachnia. _I need ... What do I need that lunatic for? I need to get out of here!_

_What good will that do? If anyone can figure out what's going on, it'll be Tarantulas._

It sounded almost logical. Blackarachnia went looking for the holding cells. It was the most likely place that the Maximals had dropped Tarantulas and Inferno.

She didn't encounter any Maximals as she searched. She hoped her luck would hold.

It did. Blackarachnia found the holding cells without any trouble. Two of the cages were active, both with unconscious bodies in them - one red, one purple. They didn't look like her team mates, but Blackarachnia wasn't looking much like herself, so she decided to take the leap. "Tarantulas!" she hissed. "Inferno!"

The purple form didn't stir. The red one did, pushing itself up on its arms and shaking its head. "Blackarachnia?" The voice wasn't as deep, but there was no mistaking the resonance of it.

"Yeah, Inferno. It's me."

He was no longer damaged. When Blackarachnia had last seen him, Inferno had been in pieces. Of course, when I had last seen him, he was a big metal ant, thought Blackarachnia, followed by, _When you had last seen her, you mean._

Inferno slowly got to his - _her_ , insisted the voice - feet. "They have taken my weapons," he rumbled. Fortunately, he seemed to have forgotten just who had shot him in the first place.

"We have bigger problems."

Inferno hung his - _her!_ snapped the voice, and Blackarachnia gave up - Inferno hung her head. "We have failed in our mission."

Blackarachnia sighed. "If you haven't noticed, we're not in our right bodies, Inferno."

The warrior finally noticed herself. Inferno frowned slightly, and while she seemed mildly surprised, she didn't appear worried. "The Royalty will know what to do. We must return to base."

Of course. Megatron could solve anything, so thought Inferno. Blackarachnia debated the merits of possibly alerting the Maximals when she deactivated the cages versus simply ditching Inferno. In the end, she found the controls and opened the cages. In this weakened form with no weapons, she wanted the warrior backing her up.

Inferno marched over to her. "We must take Tarantulas. I was sent to guard both of you."

"Forget Tarantulas. We get out of here and return with -" _No, you don't forget Tarantulas. You want to get Tarantulas and take his ... hm, her body back to her lab._

She realised that Inferno was staring at her. Blackarachnia snarled. "With reinforcements. We -" _Bah, as if Megatron will have any idea how to cure us. You need Tarantulas. Pick up Tarantulas' body and take it to her lab._ "Tarantulas?"

"Yes," said Inferno patiently. "It was my mission to protect you and Tarantulas."

_Listen to Inferno, my dear. She has the right idea._

Icy drops of suspicion were dripping down the back of Blackarachnia's neck. "... Tarantulas?"

_In, heh, your flesh,_ said Tarantulas cheerfully. _So, you'll be wanting to collect up my body now?_

"Yes! Fine! Whatever! Inferno, gather up Tarantulas. We're leaving." With that, Blackarachnia stomped off. Inferno slung her burden over one shoulder and followed.

Several minutes later, Dinobot's war cry signalled the end of Blackarachnia's luck.

 


	2. Other Vengeance: Immediate Survival

"We found them," Dinobot announced as he, Airazor, and Tigatron escorted their prisoners into the control centre. He rubbed at a reddish discolouration on his jaw, winced, then scowled when he realised he'd winced. "My first thought was to lock them up again, but I decided you would probably wish to speak with them."

At least the Predacons were fairly easy to identify. Optimus didn't know them well enough to pick up on more subtle clues, but the changes weren't so extensive that he needed them. Blackarachnia was still black and gold and lightly-built and walked with an exaggerated swing to her shoulders and hips. Inferno was still big and red and in what Optimus thought of as the warrior's 'off' mode - stiff and controlled, as different from 'on' which was all fire and violence. Tarantulas, by elimination, was the purple one slung over Inferno's shoulder.

Inferno laid Tarantulas out on an uncluttered patch of floor, where Blackarachnia crouched over the scientist and fussed. "What happened to Tarantulas?" asked Optimus.

"We didn't touch him," said Airazor. "Blackarachnia and Inferno were trying to carry him out."

"Her," Blackarachnia muttered.

Airazor blinked at her. "What?"

"Well, were you an eagle before or a falcon?" asked Blackarachnia peevishly. "You, me, Bl - er, Tarantulas, Inferno, and the striped cat are female. I'll bet Waspinator is, too. The rest of them are male. Beast-modes, you know."

"Why not just keep using Cybertronian pronouns?" asked Airazor.

Blackarachnia shook her head and went back to fussing over Tarantulas. "Call it a feeling."

"At the moment, I'm more interested in the broad strokes and you can fill in the details later," said Optimus. "What happened?"

"Tarantulas attacked me before this change," Inferno supplied unhappily. "I automatically responded in kind, though I was not to do so. The Royalty will be angry."

Rattrap snorted. "Yeah, and you were in _bits_ last I saw you, firebug."

"Tarantulas doesn't look burnt," said Cheetor.

"I'm going to go get a scanner," Rhinox announced, then left.

Optimus glared down at Blackarachnia. "And just where did you think you were slipping off to? Were you lying earlier when you said you couldn't get the stasis pod ship to work?"

The Predacon scowled back up at him. "I _couldn't_ get it to work. I thought I'd try again anyway, but I wasn't halfway to the stasis hold when the wave hit."

_And now I have Predacons,_ thought Optimus unhappily. "What am I supposed to do with you three?"

"Give us foot-rubs and let us go?" suggested Blackarachnia.

Inferno smiled. "The Royalty will come for us," she said with near-religious conviction, "and then you will all burn."

"You think ol' Meggy's gonna want you _now_?" asked Rattrap.

"Megatron will not abandon us!"

Optimus sighed. "Rattrap, don't bait Inferno. Inferno, be quiet."

"I need not listen to _you_ ," Inferno said contemptuously, but quieted anyway, turning her attention to sizing up the rest of the Maximals.

Rhinox reappeared with a hand-scanner and a toolbox, and sat down next to Tarantulas. He tapped at the controls, then frowned. "I'm getting some _very_ strange readings. Maybe the scanner's damaged."

"Strange how?"

"Strange like I'm not even going to tell you until I'm certain the scanner's working properly," said Rhinox. "Hold still for a minute."

Optimus let himself be scanned. Rhinox didn't look reassured. "I'll get back to you when I figure out what's wrong," he said, then went to go scan the others.

The others who included Predacons, bringing Optimus' thoughts back where they didn't want to go. He couldn't put it off forever. The sooner they knew the condition of the other Predacons, the better. "Rattrap, is the communications array working?"

Rattrap tapped a few buttons. "Looks like. Not real well, though."

"All right. Contact the Predacon base. Audio only."

Rattrap's hand hovered over the console. "You sure you wanna do that?"

"We need to know," Optimus pointed out. "If they're unaffected, they won't know that we were. They'll have the advantage, but won't realise it. If they _are_ affected, they'll realise why we're sending an audio-only transmission and we'll be on equal ground."

"And we _do_ have hostages. Though I doubt Megatron will care about that," said Dinobot. Inferno snarled at him.

"I don't like it. We should get the ship repaired first," said Rattrap.

"I don't like it either, but I like _not_ knowing less," Optimus told him. "Contact them."

Rattrap theatrically hit a button. "Connection established."

Inferno lunged forward. "Royalty, the Maximals are -"

"Dinobot! Airazor!" Optimus ordered the closest people. "Sit on her if you have to, just keep her quiet!"

"Oops. I didn't hit the right button, boss," said Rattrap innocently. "Want me to try again?"

_Primus bless all suspicious little rodents._ Dinobot and Airazor seemed to have Inferno well enough in hand now. "Yes," said Optimus. He checked to make sure Rattrap had actually made the right connection and said, "Axalon to the Predacon base. Anybody home?"

There was a brief pause between the connection being picked up and the voice: _"Optimus Primal. To what do I owe the honour of hearing your voice?"_

Static distorted Megatron's voice and the smooth resonance was lost in something harsh and strained, but it was still recognisable. Sarcasm dripped off every syllable, but it wasn't enough to distract from the fact that Megatron had made a point of mentioning the lack of visual contact. Under the circumstances it was a reason for hope. "Just showing neighbourly concern, Megatron. After all, that attack was pretty severe, and you're in a more tectonically unstable area than we are."

_"How nice of you. I suppose you'll offer to help us with repairs next."_

"Some repairs might be beyond our skill."

The radio was silent for a moment. Then, _"Such as your communications relay, I take it."_

"That, we can fix." Optimus steeled himself and took the plunge. "I'm willing to bet you have the same 'mechanical difficulties' that we do. Patch in your visual feed."

There was a sound like a sigh, then the viewscreen activated. Megatron glared at him through static. _"Happy, Primal?"_

Wide-set features, black hair, face dark and damp and marred by burns. No longer metal but still Megatron. Another figure - slim, red, sharp features on a light face, Terrorsaur - was visible in the background, slumped against a counter. Even in strange bodies, the Predacons were obviously in rough condition. "Not particularly," Optimus admitted. "How about a truce? A _real_ one this time."

Megatron seemed about to speak, but turned away from the screen to cover a brief coughing fit. He turned back and sighed. _"I suppose we have the same problem, yes."_

"Come on over. We seem to have half of your crew here already."

_"Hm, yes, I see that. Be advised that Inferno is not furniture. Do you really think I'm going to just walk into your base?"_

Optimus bit back a sigh. "I wasn't even thinking of an ambush. All right - how about the plain below the plateau? I'll send exact coordinates."

Megatron glanced down to read the display. _"Adequate. Megatron out."_

The screen went black. Optimus looked back over his shoulder. " _You_ suggested it," Dinobot accused from his seat on Inferno's upper back. He had a hand over her mouth.

Airazor, sitting on the Predacon's legs, shrugged. "Works, right?"

"If I knew you were gonna invite the Preds out, I wouldn't have activated the comm system," Rattrap complained.

"They have the same problem we do," said Optimus. "Even worse, from the look of it. Megatron isn't stupid. He must realise that continuing the fight under these circumstances would be pointless."

Dinobot let out a yelp of pain. "All of you will burn!" shouted Inferno.

"She _bit_ me!" Dinobot accused. "Are you certain I cannot shoot her?"

Optimus covered his face with his hand. "Not thirty seconds into a truce you won't!"

"We could wipe out half the Predacons, right now," Dinobot continued.

"I'm right here and I can _hear_ you, you know," muttered Blackarachnia.

"No, Dinobot." The idea was tempting, Optimus had to admit. Not killing the Predacons, no, but at least locking them up. Seven against four would be over quite quickly, especially since they all seemed to be about even physically now.

"Let Inferno up," said Optimus. "You can't sit on her all day."

"If we free her, she _will_ attack," said Dinobot.

Optimus crouched down. "You heard Megatron, Inferno. He'll come. Will you wait for him?"

"Yes."

"Let her up."

Dinobot and Airazor stood up, followed by the Predacon warrior. Inferno theatrically dusted herself off, then suddenly lunged at Optimus. "I will wait after I've prepared him a proper welcome!"

Inferno managed to knock Optimus down before Dinobot dragged her off. She struggled free, but was immediately tackled and pinned again by the other Maximals.

Optimus glanced back at the other conscious Predacon. "Blackarachnia, could you keep her under control?"

"I obey only Megatron!" Inferno yelled.

"She obeys only Megatron," said Blackarachnia.

"Fine," said Optimus, and reactivated the communications array. "Megatron?"

_"What now?"_

"Could you explain to Inferno that's she's not supposed to attack us now?"

_"Oh, for ... Inferno! For now the situation demands a truce. You are to take no aggressive action against the Maximals until further orders. Do you understand?"_

Inferno attempted to salute, but was being sat on again. "Yes, Royalty."

_"Now let Inferno up so I can get back to work!"_

Megatron cut the connection. At a gesture from Optimus, the Maximals pinning Inferno released her. This time Inferno just retreated to a corner of the room and glared at everyone.

 

* * *

 

"So," said Terrorsaur. "Optimus has invited us over. Any bright ideas how to _get_ there?"

Megatron didn't even look at him. "If memory serves, there is a loader sled in the cargo bay. Go see if it's still there and if the cargo bay is actually liveable. If not, bring the sled to somewhere that is. Then contact me."

There was the brief silence of a minion who had forgotten that Megatron always had a plan, a muttered, "Whatever. C'mon, Waspy," and the swish of the door.

Megatron returned to the scanner readouts, trying to make sense of them through the pounding in his head. After several minutes, he was distracted by a groan. He was at his second-in-command's side immediately. "Scorponok?"

"Megatron? You look funny."

"The short version involves the aliens, the energy wave, and a total reformat. You're injured. You took the most damage from the volcanic gases."

His second-in-command had already propped himself up on his elbows. "I'm fine. Gyros are just off a bit." With that, he groaned again and sank back to the table. "What's the long version?"

Megatron explained, though the long version wasn't much more informative than the short version. He rested his hand on Scorponok's shoulder. "All told, I'd prefer if you were active instead of the flyers. They're useful enough in a fight, I suppose, but quite hopeless in this situation."

'Hopeless' seemed to be a good summary of the entire day. _Even if I won the Beast Wars now, I can't return to Cybertron like_ this _. For now, our best bet is the Discs and the knowledge inscribed thereon, but can we even_ use _it if we find it? Can we even last that long? We were immediately injured by the atmosphere inside our own base, the CR tanks won't work on these forms, and I don't know how to repair flesh!_ He recognised the feeling as helplessness and violently rejected it. _We are Predacons. We will persevere. Waspinator recovered. Scorponok will recover. Yes._

"You okay, Megatron?"

He realised that he'd set his jaw and was glaring at nothing, and forced himself to relax. "Hm? No, obviously. But nothing for you to concern yourself with."

Scorponok was a friend, but there were limits. Megatron was the commander of the Predacons. Admitting he was worried about Scorponok was out of the question.

A wall panel beeped. _"Hey, Megatron."_

Megatron walked over and hit the intercom. "Terrorsaur. You found the sled?"

_"_ Waspinator _found it!"_ Waspinator corrected.

_"Come on down - the cargo bay's fine,"_ said Terrorsaur.

The connection cut. Megatron looked back at Scorponok. He could probably use Scorponok's help, but not if the technician was just going to fall over on him. "You will be all right if left alone for a time?"

"Yeah. I think I'll just lie here and count the rivets in the ceiling for a while."

"Good."

 

* * *

 

"Have you two made any progress with Tarantulas?"

"None, Optimus," said Rhinox. He sat back on his heels, frowning at the unconscious Predacon. "According to my scans, Tarantulas is in perfect repair. She _should_ be awake. I don't know what's wrong. And it gets worse," said Rhinox. "Here. It's what I noticed before."

Optimus accepted the scanner that Rhinox handed up to him, read the screen, blinked, and read it again. "This isn't possible."

"It shouldn't be," Rhinox agreed, "but we're living it. I checked everyone here. It's how I established a baseline to compare to Tarantulas."

Rattrap, with his unerring sense for trouble, seemed to materialise beside him. "What's goin' on?"

Blackarachnia started laughing, a raspy giggle of amusement that degenerated into hysteria. She regained control over herself quickly, muttering something about looking weak in front of the enemy. Even without her outburst, the rest of the Maximals were looking at them, sensing that something was wrong.

"You've double-checked your instruments. You're _sure_ ," said Optimus.

"I'm sure," said Rhinox. "And she double-checked." Blackarachnia nodded.

There was nothing for it. Optimus looked up at his crew. "Maximals ... these aren't unusual beast-modes. We're fully organic."

Cheetor blinked. "What? _How?_ "

"Well," said Airazor, "that explains why we can't transform. Not that I'd have ever guessed _that_ reason ..."

"So instead of killing us, the aliens decided to insult us," sneered Dinobot.

Tigatron gave the warrior a look that should have vaporised him. "Organics are inferior, are they?" Her tone was still polite, but straining to contain a growl.

Dinobot turned on her and glared back. "In my experience, yes. And you cannot deny that these forms are weaker than our true ones."

"I don't like this," said Rattrap. "I mean, the aliens very deliberately turned us into squashy things. What's the point? Are they gonna try to kill us now or what?"

"I don't know," Optimus admitted. "Nothing the aliens have done has made sense. All we can do is stay alert and adapt until we find a way to reverse the change."

" _If_ we find a way," Rattrap muttered.

"While we're thinking of adaptation, there is the matter of refuelling," said Tigatron. "Energon is obviously out. Organic beings eat. Often."

"That's not a big deal," said Cheetor. "We all used to eat before."

"We could eat almost _anything_ as robots," Tigatron agreed. "But somehow I doubt that our stomachs could handle that. How strong a chemical do you think this flesh could contain?"

"Many species of plants and some animals are poisonous to ward off predators," said Rhinox.

"We can likely figure out just from scans what's compatible with our body chemistry," said Optimus. "But we need a place to start. We can't go around randomly putting things in our mouths hoping that we can convert them into fuel."

"Heh, the creatures on this planet are nearly identical under their skin," Blackarachnia said suddenly, then stifled a giggle. It was easy enough to guess how she knew, and she probably enjoyed the research. "There are a few differences, but generally all the internals are merely different proportional sizes. I'd say it's a safe bet that whatever species is most physically similar to us on the outside is also the most similar on the inside."

"That'd be the apes," said Rhinox.

Automatically, everyone turned to look at Optimus, who held up his hands. "Just because I wore the form of a gorilla doesn't mean I put a great deal of study into what they eat. I had a conversion tank like the rest of you."

"Judging by our teeth, we're omnivores," said Blackarachnia. "The local animals should be, ah-hah, fair game as a fuel source."

"The diets of apes are a start, though," said Rhinox. "Tigatron ..?"

The tracker shook her head. "I do not know the specifics. But I know where the nearest gorilla colony is and could likely reach it in a megacycle."

"Good. Keep that in mind but don't go yet," said Optimus. "We don't know when the other Predacons will arrive. Hm. Rhinox, you might as well help Blackarachnia take Tarantulas down to the xenolab. See if anything down there will be of any use."

Blackarachnia smirked. "You make it sound as if we're staying."

"I'm just making a suggestion," said Optimus, shrugging. "Or you can just leave Tarantulas on the floor. It's no difference to me."

"Oh, sweet talker," said Blackarachnia sarcastically, but got her arms under Tarantulas' shoulders. "While I'm here, I might as well take advantage of any Maximal hospitality. Lead the way, big guy." Rhinox picked up Tarantulas by the feet and carefully led the way out.

"Water, as well," said Tigatron, still on her first topic. "Hydration is even more important than refuelling, from what I've seen."

"Well, we're right on a river," said Rattrap. "We can run up a big hose and install a pump easy enough. I'll go see if we got the stuff for it." He left.

"All I have been hearing is 'adapt'," growled Dinobot. "No one has said anything about 'cure'."

Airazor raised an eyebrow. "Do _you_ have any ideas?"

The warrior shot a pointed look at Tigatron. " _I_ am not the biologist."

Tigatron shook her head. "I do fieldwork biology, Dinobot. I know how animals live and can make educated guesses as to what these bodies need. But if we're looking for some way to reverse the change, we need a laboratory biologist. The only name that comes to mind is Tarantulas."

"And Megatron, to a lesser degree," Dinobot added. "He dabbles. Interesting, though, that our main hope at a cure is conveniently unconscious."

"I wish you would stop saying 'cure'," rumbled Tigatron. "This is a change, not a disease."

"Hnh."

"Hey! Don't touch that!"

Inferno looked ready to belt Cheetor for catching her out, but relaxed her hands and stepped back from the computer. Optimus had almost forgotten she was there - the Predacon warrior was usually so loud and active that sitting quietly had practically made her invisible. She'd only been noticed because she moved. "I wanted to check the scanners to see if the Royalty was coming. The rest of you don't seem to be paying any attention."

"We've got an array pointed towards the Predacon base. We'll know when they come," said Optimus.

Cheetor flopped back into his chair. "Well, what do we do until then?"

"Work on repairs. I'm going to go down and help Rattrap with the plumbing."

 

* * *

 

When the alarm sounded, Optimus and Rattrap immediately dropped work on the half-finished pump and returned to the control room at a run. The noise had been shut off by the time they arrived, but the tension in the air meant the emergency wasn't over. "Report!"

Inferno stood back and laughed. She stopped when Dinobot snarled at her, but continued to radiate smugness. The only one who didn't notice her outburst was Cheetor, who was scrambling at the monitor panel. "We've got something coming in from the direction of the Pred base! It's not real fast, but it's metallic and airborne!"

Optimus ran over to lean over Cheetor's shoulder. "Get it on visual! Now!" If only one Predacon was still a Transformer ... _Inferno's here, I saw Terrorsaur in the background when I was talking to Megatron ... Waspinator? Are we all going to be killed by_ Waspinator _?_

"It's too big to be Waspinator," said Cheetor, who had come to the same conclusion. He tried to coax more information out of the damaged sensors. "It's not a stasis pod - the scanners would know. It's not giving off a personal energy signature. I think it's just a ... a thing."

"A _thing_. How eloquent," Dinobot sneered. "Optimus, I should go out and ..."

"Possibly end up a smear," said Optimus, already up to his elbows in wires trying to reactivate the outside cameras. "I think I've ... there!"

The picture quality was poor, but at least it laid his fears to rest - the Predacons were all affected as the Maximals were, they'd just rigged up a cargo sled for travel. The hoversled set down near the agreed-upon coordinates, but not directly on, probably out of paranoia more than bad driving.

"Rattrap, stay up here on monitor duty," said Optimus. Rattrap would be more able to deal with any mechanical problems in the scanners than Cheetor. "We haven't got radios so we'll be out of contact, but keep track of things as well as you can. The rest of you, we're going out to talk to the neighbours. You too, Inferno."

The Predacon warrior rumbled. "Of course."

Splitting up seemed an acceptable risk - Blackarachnia might have been tricky, but so was Rattrap, and Rhinox was twice her size. She seemed preoccupied with Tarantulas anyway.

 

* * *

 

"Well, where are they?"

Megatron glanced back at Terrorsaur, who was seated in the long grass, back to back with Waspinator, who had fallen asleep. The Predacon commander frowned. "Oh, yes, and you two make such a dignified and imposing scene."

"I'll get up when there's something to impose at," said Terrorsaur. "They could be ten metres away and we wouldn't know. We should have waited for more light."

"It's enough." Barely, Megatron could admit. The pre-dawn light was enough to make out shapes and little more. "They weren't going to come out here and wait. There's no cover and they had no idea how long it would take for us to arrive. If they saw us arrive - and I'm quite certain they were watching for us - it should take ten, perhaps fifteen cycles for them to walk here."

The air warrior shifted a bit. "So I've got time for a quick recharge, then?"

"You do _not_ ..." But the harsh rhythm of Terrorsaur's breathing had already evened out. Megatron sighed and sat on the edge of the parked loader sled next to Scorponok. "Why do I keep those idiots?"

"Basilicon lent them to you."

"Mm. I suppose he'd be upset if I lost them."

They were all armed now - Terrorsaur had been allowed to retrieve his gun while the others had taken some of the smaller weapons from the armoury. Not that they'd do much good in the shape the Predacons were in, but they made Megatron feel better.

Being outside in the cool of the morning helped as well. His eyes no longer burned and watered and his skin no longer leaked, except a bit where it was burned. Breathing wasn't so much of a chore and the pump in his chest had found a slower, less painful rhythm. Even his headache had subsided a little. He still wished he had the luxury of slipping into stasis, though, even if just for a little while, for the respite from pain and the hope that his repairs would go faster. _And now I must parlay with Maximals. Blast it all._

The plain gave no cover and the sun was rising, so after a few minutes, Megatron was able to make out the Maximal party approaching. He couldn't focus his sight properly to make out any details until they were too close for it to matter. Megatron waited until they were twenty metres away before getting up and kicking his flyers awake.

He amused himself briefly trying to determine who was who, but it wasn't much of a challenge. Optimus, Dinobot, Tigatron, Airazor, Cheetor ... Oddly, despite everyone being in similar bodies now, the Maximal cats had more differences between them than they had before the change. However, the part that held Megatron's attention was that they were all armed - like himself, not showing active aggression, but armed - except one. Well, given who it was, he couldn't really blame them for not giving him a gun.

"Royalty!"

Inferno crossed the rest of the distance at a run, but pulled up short and wrinkled his nose. "Er, Royalty ..."

"That would be lava fumes," said Megatron irritably. He stepped past his warrior to address the one he'd picked out as his Maximal counterpart. "Well, Optimus Primal, you didn't gun us down. Maximal kindness, I suppose."

"Probably," said Optimus. "What's your excuse?"

Megatron put a hand to his chest. "You _wound_ me. I cannot have a fit of neighbourliness? I do note we're missing some people. The rat, the rhino ... and where are my spiders, Primal?"

"They're not hostages, if that's what you're asking," said Optimus. "Tarantulas never woke up after the change. She's alive, but we thought it best not to move her around too much. Rhinox and Blackarachnia are looking after her."

"How nice of ... Wait. 'Her'?"

"Don't look at me. Blackarachnia's the one who insisted on the pronouns."

"Odd. Tell me about Tarantulas."

Optimus shrugged. "There's not much to tell. Blackarachnia found her unconscious. Tarantulas had been badly damaged before the change, but so were others and they're fine now. Rhinox and Dinobot had both been in the CR chambers when the change hit. We found them fully repaired, though I know the chambers hadn't finished with them. Inferno had been seriously damaged and in stasis lock as well. As far as we can tell, there's nothing wrong with Tarantulas, she just won't wake up."

"Yet some of us are ... injured, despite being in full repair beforehand," said Megatron reluctantly. "Though that happened afterwards, I believe. The perils of having one's command centre above a lava pit."

"Dinobot developed a mark on his jaw," said Optimus. "Inferno punched him."

"I suppose it's useful to know that these bodies discolour when damaged. Dinobot's injury lends credence to my initial assumption. Whatever happened to Tarantulas must have happened after the change as well, since it didn't affect the rest of us adversely." Megatron went back to the hoversled and got on. "Optimus Primal, I thank you for looking after my people in this strange time, but I will be collecting up the spiders and heading back to our base."

There was a cough behind him, meant to be a quiet noise to draw attention but a damaged throat made the sound much harsher. "Oh, yeah, great idea. We _can't_ go back there, remember?" Terrorsaur rasped, leaning heavily against Waspinator, though it was impossible to tell who was propping up who. "It was hard to breathe even in the clean sections."

Megatron turned back to glare at him. "Then we'll improve the environmental systems. Have you got a better idea?"

"Yeah. Not dying of lava fumes!"

"Wait, so you guys got those burns just from the _air_?" asked Cheetor. "Freaky."

"Even the air is out to get Waspinator," sighed Waspinator.

"Both of you be quiet," Megatron ordered his air warriors. "Terrorsaur exaggerates. Our entire command deck is swimming in lava, true, you know this. Even with the environmental controls at their limits, these bodies can't handle the heat or the gases from the lava for more than a few minutes without suffering detrimental effects. The rest isn't nearly so bad."

"What if your environmental systems burn out?" asked Optimus.

"What if you're struck by a meteor?" Megatron countered irritably, finding his headache returning full-force.

"We all have the same problem," said Optimus. "If we team up, we can focus our energies towards reversing the changes the aliens made in us. If we're undermining each other, we'll never solve this. In fact, I don't think either side _could_ solve it alone."

Megatron inspected his fingers, trying to look calm and in control despite the fact that all he wanted was to retreat and get a chance to repair. "I would put my crew against yours any day. For an exploration crew, you seem rather lacking in scientists. What you have are engineers."

"Your scientist won't wake up. Even if she did, how long would Tarantulas last in her new body? You have abstract knowledge. You need practical." Optimus looked his counterpart straight in the eyes. "You're right - we need the Predacons to reverse the changes. But you need the Maximals to live."

Inwardly, Megatron sighed. He could blame Terrorsaur and Waspinator for being noisy whiners and giving away the severity of their situation, but the truth was that it was obvious enough. The Maximals could tell by looking that the Predacons were in bad shape, and between the smell and the burns they could have deduced the problems with the Predacon base on their own. And Optimus was right - Megatron already had several ideas on how the change could possibly be reversed, but none on how to survive in his new body until then. "Your move, Optimus Primal."

"We ..." Optimus stopped and frowned. "Excuse us a moment. Maximals?"

The Maximals moved off to talk amongst themselves. Megatron looked back at his own crew. "How nice to know that he has no idea what to do next."

"Er ... Do _we_?" asked Scorponok.

Before Megatron could answer, there was an indignant bellow from Dinobot: "Primal! You _cannot_ be _serious_!" that was quickly shushed by the others. The general tone of the Maximal huddle grew more heated, but they were still too far away for the Predacons to make out the conversation.

"Optimus Primal seems to be having some problems keeping control over his people," said Megatron idly. "Inferno, did they say anything interesting while you were in the _Axalon_?"

Inferno frowned in concentration. "They worried that you might still be at full power. They wondered about Tarantulas' condition and whether she may be the only one who could reverse this change. They discussed fuels and maintenance issues."

"In detail?"

"No, Royalty. Even they are only making educated guesses based on the local wildlife."

"Which we have paid little attention to. Blast."

The Maximals returned, looking decidedly unhappy, though Dinobot was the only one looking openly hostile. The others ran from wary to trying to look neutral. Optimus was one of the latter. "We have space in the _Axalon_ ," he said without preamble. "We're still missing fifteen of our crew, after all. Your base might have more appropriate equipment for experimentation, but you can't stay there. As well, the _Axalon_ has more ready access to the fuels we need. We should make the _Axalon_ our base of operations and bring over whatever else we need from your ship."

Megatron blinked in surprise, caught off-guard by the offer. He had already run several situations through his mind, with appropriate counterplots, but this was not a possibility he had considered. "What?"

"You're done-in and you can't even go back to your base. Teaming up is the only logical way to deal with our mutual problem," Optimus pointed out. "I'm offering to let you stay at the _Axalon_ , at least for now."

_Maximal charity. By the Pit where burns the Inferno, by the Forgefires of Primus,_ Maximal charity _. If I had to sum up the reason for the Predacon rebellion in two words, I would sneer, "Maximal charity." Caused here by environmental issues and illogical aliens instead of an oppressive, favourites-playing government, but the end result is the same. Oh, when I recover, Optimus Primal, when I no longer need your aid, you - will -_ suffer _._

Megatron glanced over at Dinobot and caught his gaze, but Dinobot quickly looked away. _I wonder, did you protest because you think we're a security risk, or was that sympathy, knowing that we wouldn't be able to stand hearing Primal's offer? You were one of mine - you might be a Maximal out of wounded pride and your odd sense of honour, but you remember why there are Predacon outlaws._

Aloud, Megatron said, "Very well. I understand the logic of your reasoning - a pooling of resources so to deal with this little situation more quickly. I dislike the thought of staying at the _Axalon_ , but it seems my choices are limited."

"Don't worry," said Optimus dryly. "We won't be pleased to have you as houseguests, either."

"Ah, honesty. Standard 'no shooting' terms?"

Optimus nodded. "I'd think so. We can't disarm completely - there's still the local wildlife to contend with. It might start looking at us as edible. And I'd also say no fighting on board the _Axalon_ , just for some neutral territory."

Megatron signalled his people to get back on the hoversled and activated it. "Lead on, then," he sighed.

_For now, I have lost my strength and my base of operations. I have the Discs, but am unable to access them. All I have right now are my crew, so I must see that they are tended to before I weaken any further. Survival always comes first._

 


	3. Other Vengeance: Immediate Survival

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Nobody said anything about bringin' more stinkin' Preds back here!" Rattrap protested. "And I _do_ mean 'stinking'."

"It's lava," said Tigatron. "They've always smelled like that."

"Yeah, well now it's disgusting."

The control room of the _Axalon_ was getting crowded. "Tigatron, Cheetor, stay put for now, I'll have a job for you when I get back," Optimus ordered. "Tigatron, fill Rattrap in on the situation. Predacons, come with me. I'll see to finding quarters for you."

"I wish to see Tarantulas first," said Megatron. "Perhaps I will find something you missed."

"Fine," said Optimus. "We'll go past the xenolab first. I'll have Rhinox scan you all as well. The wider a sample we have to work from, the better."

Dinobot insisted on coming along, just in case the Predacons suddenly recovered, or, more likely, to keep watch on Inferno. She had only been told to restrain herself until further orders, and while Megatron was himself in no shape to fight, he could very easily give further orders.

Blackarachnia, sitting cross-legged on the table that Tarantulas was lying on, looked up when they came in. "Megatron? You all look awful."

"Good morning to you, too," rumbled Megatron. "Move aside."

Optimus signalled Rhinox to see to Scorponok and the flyers, then went to the table, opposite Megatron. Inferno was still sticking to her leader like a big, red shadow, and Blackarachnia hovered nearby, refusing to be too far away from Tarantulas. The former was normal, the latter was not. As far as Optimus had been able to tell, Tarantulas and Blackarachnia hated each other.

Megatron took Tarantulas' face in his hands, carefully turning her head this way and that, looking for damages, then inspected her arms, since they were mostly bare except for some long, dark green ribbons tied around her upper arms. "There seem to be no bumps, dents, discolourations, or tears, but perhaps these are hidden by her clothes. Or her injury isn't visible. Many attacks cause unconsciousness but leave no mark. Null rays, surgers, EMP projectors, cybervenom ..."

"You get one guess what Rhinox was being treated for in the CR chamber," Optimus snapped. He composed himself. "Those are all attacks to be used on robots, anyway. Would any of them affect what we are now?"

"Well, they _can't_ be good for us, no. Help me with her clothing. She may have some hidden injury that will shed some light on the matter. I trust my own senses more than a hastily recalibrated scanner at this moment, yes."

Blackarachnia appeared beside her leader, as if trying to block him. "Look, I'll do that."

"Looking for the softest spot to slip the knife into," Megatron murmured.

"I don't like her, but I know Tarantulas better than you do, and I know that if she has to be vulnerable and prodded at, she'd want me to be the one doing it," said Blackarachnia. "Besides, in the state you're in, you're not going to be real helpful."

"Blackarachnia, I would like to think that I know my own limits! -"

At that moment, he exceeded them. The shout became a wheeze and Megatron staggered, folding up in a coughing fit. Inferno caught him before he could collapse, then for some reason glared at Scorponok as if it was his fault. For his part, Scorponok ran over and helped Inferno get Megatron back upright. "He hasn't caught a break since this started. How d'you expect _me_ to stop him, Inferno?"

"Enough, both of you!" Megatron snarled, shaking them off.

Blackarachnia looked completely surprised - she had been goading him, but hadn't expected any reaction beyond being shouted at. Conversely, Terrorsaur and Waspinator seemed almost bored, as if they knew Megatron was due to fall over, or they just couldn't summon up the energy to care. Rhinox looked up and raised an eyebrow, but he was hard to startle. Dinobot had hissed, taken a step forward, then quickly subsided and forced himself to take on a neutral expression.

Megatron glared at everyone. "And you can all stop staring." He turned to Optimus. "Perhaps it _would_ be best if we proceeded to quarters. My crew _has_ had a rough day."

_He's embarrassed,_ thought Optimus, and even though the conclusion was obvious, it was still surprising because it involved Megatron. _Well, that explains why he agreed to the truce so easily - he's more damaged then he wants to let on so he's not up for a fight. Suits me._

Rhinox approached them, holding up his scanner. "Megatron, you and the ones who came with you have lower levels of oxygen in your blood than the rest of us. That's probably causing some of your problems."

"What are we supposed to do, then?" sighed Megatron. "Breathe more?"

Rhinox ignored the sarcasm. "We can increase the oxygen level in your rooms and see if that helps. Don't start any fires." Inferno glared at him.

"Hmph. I knew that, yes." But the annoyance seemed to be self-directed.

Blackarachnia refused to leave the xenolab. Optimus and Dinobot managed to sort out the other five Predacons without incident but one. Megatron let himself be led to a set of empty quarters, but he turned back to the two Maximals. "One final bit of neighbourly information: I have deactivated the security system at our base. There was no point for it to be on - it's programmed to detect Transformers, not organics. But before I left, I deactivated the environmental controls. Good day." Inferno followed him in before the door closed.

Optimus and Dinobot started back to the command centre. Apparently unable to wait, Rattrap ambushed them in the hall. "Since we got Preds over, I wanted the opinion of our resident Predacon expert," he said. The way he emphasised his words, it was impossible to tell whether Rattrap meant 'our authority on Predacons' or 'our skilled Predacon'.

Dinobot didn't react, so either the former or he just wasn't in the mood to take the bait. Optimus looked back down at Rattrap. "Fire away."

"I'm gonna put this as delicately as I can," said Rattrap. "Ahem: Are you out of your slaggin' _mind_!?"

"If the Predacons are _here_ , they're not over _there_ plotting against us."

"Oh, good, I was worried that you'd gone soft 'cause they got hurt. They can plot just as easily here, you know."

"The Discs are at the Predacon base," said Optimus.

Rattrap stared at his leader a moment, then grinned. "One of which was made by the aliens and might have information on it that we could use. So if you can't keep the Discs out of the Preds' hands, you'll keep the Preds away from the Discs. And when they wanna go back to pick up equipment, heh, we'll be right there to help 'em."

"Megatron knows what you're up to," said Dinobot grimly. "Why do you think he turned off the climate controls in his base? He cannot reach the Discs, but neither can we unless he lets us."

"A stalemate is better than a loss." Optimus frowned, then looked up at Dinobot. "When Megatron collapsed, was that real or was it an attempt to lull us into a false sense of security?"

Dinobot considered that. "Real. And unless his skills at trickery have increased exponentially since we ... parted ways, I would say that he has been honest with us. He cannot shut off his pain receptors. His damages distract him, inhibiting his ability to think clearly, and he lacks the energy to lie. But he will recover."

They re-entered the control room. Tigatron, Cheetor, and Airazor were in a little group by the monitors, but looked up when the others came in. "You said you had a job for us?" asked Cheetor, practically bouncing.

Optimus couldn't help smiling in the face of such obvious enthusiasm. "It's not that exciting, I'm afraid. Tigatron said she had an idea of where to find fuel for these forms. I want you to assist her."

Cheetor's eagerness wasn't damped in the least. "So what if it's not much? I want to see how fast I can go and I can't do that in here and you didn't let me before."

"Remember that you're not robots anymore," Optimus cautioned. "The local wildlife may think you're prey."

"We will take all due precautions." Tigatron nodded, signalled to Cheetor, and left.

Optimus looked over at his remaining crew. "Dinobot, Airazor, sort out monitor duty between yourselves. Rattrap and I still have work to do on the water pump."

Before Optimus could leave, Dinobot stopped him. "You seem to think you have everything sorted out, but what of the aliens?" demanded Dinobot. "What if they should attack again? We could not defend ourselves _before_ , how are we supposed to _now_?"

"I don't know about that," said Optimus. "They could have killed us. They didn't. Maybe this was their way of neutralising us. More research is needed - I agree on that."

"What about the stasis pods?" asked Airazor. "If more come down, what'll come _out_ of them?"

Optimus nodded. "Good question. If the aliens changed them as well, they'll need our help." And at least one would need to be contained. _If there is a Primus and if his influence reaches this far, if the stasis pods were unaffected by the reformat, let us find our crew first so we have a chance ..._

"Could the Predacons still reprogram them?" asked Dinobot.

"Dinobot, right now, the Predacons can't do _anything_."

 

* * *

 

Terrorsaur tapped the door intercom. "Waspinator? Open up."

Her voice came through: _"What is secret password?"_

"Lemme in, you dope."

The door opened. Waspinator stuck her tongue out at him. "Lucky guess. What does terror-bot want?"

"I told you. In."

Waspinator stood back to let him pass, then went and sat down on the berth, feet crossed at the ankles. Terrorsaur paced for a few minutes, then suddenly turned on her. "Why in the Pit aren't you worried about this?"

She shrugged. "Been shot by flying island. Been possessed by Starscream. Been blown up on regular basis. Waspinator does not find new bodies exciting."

"But we're completely organic!"

"Megatron will fix it," said Waspinator confidently. "Or Maximals will fix it and Megatron will steal the fix for Predacons."

Terrorsaur glared at her. "There's something disgusting about your cheerfulness."

The scout lay back on the berth and tucked her hands behind her head. "Waspinator has other reasons to be cheerful."

"Yeah?"

"Waspinator," she said in conspiratorial tones, "has _plans_."

There was no getting information out of Waspinator when she was in one of her moods. Her plan was probably nothing more exciting than borrowing his gloves anyway. "Be that way. And what's your room code?"

"Same as back in Predacon base. Easy for Waspinator to remember."

Of course. He should have tried that first. So much for giving Waspinator any credit. "How long do you think we're going to be staying here in the Maximal base?"

Waspinator shrugged awkwardly. "Next few hours at least. Maybe will find a way to get Predacons' base less hot and stinky later."

"It's half-sunk in lava and we already turned the environmental compensators to maximum. I don't think it's possible."

"Then Predacons stuck with Maximals. Yuck."

"Well, they're not allowed to shoot us now, right?"

Waspinator gave him a dark look. "And Terrorsaur says _Waspinator_ has bad memory. Terrorsaur not remember last truce."

"Okay, so they beat the slag out of us without weapons," said Terrorsaur. "But Megatron's got to have _some_ reason for going along with it ..."

"Squawk, squawk, squawk," said Waspinator, then sat up to look at him. "Terrorsaur is stalling." She cocked her head. "Terror-bot is scared? Doesn't want to be alone?"

"Mmph." It was true enough, Terrorsaur could acknowledge. Regaining consciousness in a strange room was likely to throw him into panic fits until he remembered where he was. However, regaining consciousness in a strange room with someone he might not recognise as his wingmate ... He considered that. He hadn't been teamed up with Waspinator long, but he'd know her anywhere. Better to have something familiar around. "Yeah, I'll stay. Safety in numbers in the enemy base and all."

Waspinator knew Terrorsaur's real reasons full well and made a razzing noise, but didn't argue with him.

 

* * *

 

"Okay, I got it hooked up. You wanna do the honours, boss?" said Rattrap, climbing up to perch on the edge of the currently open-topped tank that was just a little shorter than he was. Between the width of the hose and the strength of the pump, they realised it made more sense to build a reservoir than to just let the pump blast and flood the lower cargo bay. It was such a simple machine with such a simple purpose. Putting it all together had almost been relaxing.

"All right. Get ready." Optimus tapped the controls that would open the valve and begin the suction.

The pump made dreadful gasping noises for nearly a minute before the air was completely forced out by the oncoming water, and the gasping became a splashing. Rattrap whooped from his perch. "Whaddya know - we got it right the first time ... Hey, is that a fish? We caught a fish! Ha!"

Optimus shut off the pump. "We should have put a screen at the other end. And filters. Goodness knows what else is in the river."

Rattrap leaned down and swiped at the water. "Okay, fine, so it's not perfect. I'll whomp up a screen and attach it down at the bottom so's we don't catch any more fish. You or Rhinox can deal with filters. Are fish edible now? I never ate a fish before."

"What, never?"

"It was too much bother to try to catch 'em and Tigatron yelled at me when I suggested blasting 'em out of the water once ... Oops, incoming firebug!"

Optimus turned and found himself looking up at Inferno, but not too far up. He was one of the few people she didn't loom over.

"Optimus Primal. I have been looking for you." Her tone was strained - she still saw him as an enemy, but Megatron had ordered her to obey the truce, so she would.

"Hello, Inferno. Why?"

The Predacon had left her long coat and her gloves somewhere, which left her arms bare. She held up one hand, the back discoloured by a burn. "The chemicals used for cleaning are incompatible with these forms. Change this."

Of course. The cleaning chemicals they used were designed to get rid of the organic muck they picked up from the planet outside, and now the Cybertronians counted as organic muck themselves. "I'm glad you thought of it before someone tried to take a shower," said Optimus. "I'm sorry about your hand."

Inferno ignored the apology. "Change this before the other Predacons awaken."

"Water seems harmless and we have easy access to it. Will that do?"

He gestured back at the tank. Inferno strode over, ignoring Rattrap, and reached down into the tank and splashed a bit. "I suppose it will have to," she said, shaking the water off her hand. "I expect the impurities to be dealt with."

"Nobody likes my fish," sighed Rattrap.

"There is visible detritus floating in it. This is _not_ hygienic." Inferno turned back to Optimus. "The scans your engineer took of everyone - how complete were they? Does the data include just the flesh or these outer coverings as well?"

Caught by brief surprise at the sudden change of topic, Optimus took several seconds to answer. "They were complete, clothing included."

"Have they been uploaded to the main computer?"

"Yes."

The Predacon nodded. "I require access to your fabricator."

When Optimus hesitated, Inferno frowned. "The Royalty told me to make myself useful. My nestmates are in an absolutely disgraceful condition. I cannot fight what harmed them, I cannot repair their injuries, but I _can_ see to it that they are clean and tended to."

Optimus and Rattrap exchanged glances, then Optimus turned back to Inferno. "I'll take you up to the control room."

When they arrived, Airazor was the only one left in attendance. She looked askance at Inferno, but turned back to fiddling with the monitors when Optimus signalled it was all right. If Inferno noticed, she didn't seem to care.

Optimus told Sentinel that Inferno was allowed to use the fabricator until further notice, then pointed out the interface. Inferno took on a challenger's stance, as if she was going to fight the computer and not just talk to it. "Computer!"

"It's called 'Sentinel'," said Optimus.

Inferno nodded, then looked up again. "Sentinel! Access the data from the scans taken from Predacon units Megatron, Scorponok, Terrorsaur, and Waspinator."

_"Accessed."_

"Disregard the organic data - I am only interested in their outer coverings, everything that is _not_ a part of their bodies. Do this."

_"Acknowledged."_

"Now remove any trace or particles that would have come from volcanic gases. Scan my outer coverings and the others in this room if a baseline is required."

The Predacon didn't seem to need any help. Optimus drifted over to Airazor. "What are you working on?"

She tapped a couple keys, then looked up at him. "I'm trying to re-establish contact with the stasis pods. I worried what the energy wave might have done to their systems, but right now I can't detect them at all."

"Keep trying. Where did Dinobot go?"

"He said he was going to go back to his room to Contemplate the Situation," said Airazor. "His words. His emphasis, too."

"He's off on a sulk."

"Yep." Airazor leaned over and dropped her voice. "Why are you letting _Inferno_ of all people have access to the computer?"

"All she's after is clean clothing for her comrades," said Optimus. "She's concerned about them. All I'd ever seen her do before was laugh and set things on fire. Seeing her protective is interesting."

"You know ... she _does_ have a Maximal spark ..."

"Her and Blackarachnia." Optimus shook his head. "I don't know. I can hope, but ... they're reprogrammed. They're gone."

Airazor turned, watching Inferno. "Remember, though - the person who abandoned me to go sulk has Predacon programming _and_ a Predacon spark, and he chose Maximal."

 

* * *

 

Inferno had vanished with her arms full of synthetic fabric, only to reappear later behind Rattrap, demanding to know how the showers were coming along. Rattrap must have talked a good game, because when Optimus went to check up on him a few megacycles later, Inferno was holding up a pipe so that Rattrap could weld it. "It's nice to see you two getting along."

Maximal and Predacon turned to him with identical expressions of disgust. "She wanted it done fast. I told her it'd go faster if she helped," said Rattrap. Inferno nodded agreement. "You hook up the filters and stuff you wanted?"

"The screen, too, since you were busy in here. How's this coming?"

Rattrap wiped the back of his hand across his forehead and left a smear of grease. "That's about the last of it, actually. I mean, all we really had to do was disconnect the showers from the chemical cleaners tank and hook 'em up to the water tank. I'll run it full-blast for a while to flush all the chemicals outta the system first, though."

Optimus checked up on Rhinox and Blackarachnia in the xenolab, but they didn't have anything new to report, so he headed back up to the control room. He might have been covering the length of the ship, but it was pacing and he knew it. Well, he was worried about everyone and wanted to check up on them. The sensors couldn't tell them apart, there weren't cameras everywhere, and he knew that calls through the intercom every few minutes wouldn't make him popular.

He briefly envied the injured Predacons - Optimus hadn't caught a break since the day before and now it was late morning. However, whenever he tried to rest, he found he'd just get up a minute later and check on things. _Maybe once things have settled a bit, I'll be able to relax._

Rattrap hadn't been exaggerating about nearly being finished with the pipes - he beat Optimus back to the control room. Dinobot had apparently grown bored of his own company and was up there as well. He was engaged in a quiet if earnest conversation with Sentinel about something - trying to design a sword suited for his new form, it sounded like. The room was brighter than normal, and Optimus looked up to find the roof hatch open, with Airazor's feet dangling over the edge. "Airazor!"

She leaned down to look at him. "I was checking the space scanner array for damage. It looks fine. Now I'm on break."

Airazor looked away suddenly as if called, waved, then swung down a cable back into the control room. "Tigatron and Cheetor are back."

Tigatron and Cheetor arrived on the lift several minutes later, a small loader drone between them. "Now that the sun's up, it's hot out there like whoa," said Cheetor. "I guess it was always like that, I just never noticed. I can't even imagine what it'd be like in the Pred base if _outside_ is bad enough."

Tigatron nodded. "I rather wonder why we have clothing at all. It seems impractical."

"You'd look like Inferno without it," said Airazor.

"Did you have any trouble?" asked Optimus.

Tigatron shook her head. "Very little. Perhaps the scent of the drone kept predators away, perhaps there were simply none around. It did take the gorillas longer than usual to notice us as we observed them. Whatever we smell like now is either not as strong as it was or simply blends better than the scent of our original bodies did."

"We brought fruits. It seemed easiest," said Cheetor, parking the drone next to the table.

Rattrap picked through the loader. "There's no wild bean vines in here, is there? Those things did a number on Rhinox when he was a _robot_. They'd probably make us explode now."

"This was stuff off a tree," said Cheetor. "Relax."

Dinobot picked up one of the yellowish fruits with red markings and eyed it warily. "You are certain this isn't going to kill us? We may have completely incompatible body chemistry."

"What would the point of that be? If the aliens could transmute us, they could have more easily destroyed us. Why transmute us only to have us die of fuel loss? Besides, we are unharmed after an hour," said Tigatron, which gave Optimus a brief scientific horror that she had tested it on herself. It would make perfect, logical sense in Tigatron's mind to do it that way, he knew. "In fact, I do feel better now than I did before. But do not expect immediate effects. Our current systems do not seem to convert matter to useable energy very fast."

"We're all gonna die," said Rattrap, fishing out a fruit of his own, "but I'd rather go out with a full tank."

He took a bite, then immediately spat it out. "Stripes! Why didn't you _warn_ me?"

Tigatron raised an eyebrow. "Hm?"

"Our senses! I've eaten these things before - they never tasted like anything! The thing's practically an overload now!"

Dinobot looked disgusted. "So of all our senses, most muted, some lost completely, the one that got _enhanced_ was _taste_? Are organics supposed to perceive their universe by _licking_ it?"

Tigatron and Rattrap were still arguing. "You dislike it?" The tracker was smiling faintly - she'd known what the reaction would be and was enjoying it. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Tigatron had a sense of humour, though this little practical joke was more Cheetor's style. He'd probably put her up to it, and seeing it harmless, Tigatron went along with it.

Rattrap wagged a finger at her. "I never said _that_. It just caught me by surprise is all."

It seemed safe enough and other options weren't presenting themselves. Optimus selected one of the yellowish spheres and took a bite. Transformers did have a sense of taste - different grades of fuel, different additives ... a bartender could become famous for their drinks. There were even Cybertronian confectioners who made a living carefully balancing chemicals into little bites of ecstasy.

The lesser ones would have thrown away their tools in despair if they could have experienced that first bite. The better ones would scramble to duplicate the effect. He wasn't sure if he liked the flavour yet, but it was certainly intense.

He nodded to Tigatron. "We'd just assumed that all our senses had been dulled. It's nice to have a pleasant surprise after the unpleasant one we got from the aliens."

Tigatron's expression flickered briefly - anger? Disapproval? Annoyance? - but settled to a neutral, businesslike one too quickly for him to read. "This isn't a balanced diet. We wear the forms of omnivores, not herbivores. More research will be required."

"This will hold us for now. It seems like we're going to have to get into a detailed study of this planet sooner than we expected."

"And without our right crew," said Rattrap. "We're mostly just here to fly the ship. The specialists are all still takin' pod-naps."

"We know enough for a start."

 

_To be continued ..._

 

**Author's Note:**

> I expect it will be easier for tagging purposes if I upload each chapter ( and in this story, a 'chapter' can easily pass 20K words ) and declare the story a series. Otherwise there end up tags for things that haven't happened yet/won't happen for ages. Anyway, this mess started back in 2007 and has been slowly added to ever since. Technically it's 'Other Vengeance 2.0' because there was an earlier version of the idea, but we're dropping the '2.0' on this platform for clarity.


End file.
